Stuck in the Moment
by IanLevitt
Summary: It has been 15 years since the war ended. It has been 15 years since the dawn of a new era. It has been 15 years since Katniss Everdeen last spoke to Gale Hawthorne. They've lived totally separately lives, and they each have families of their own. When dangerous circumstances bring Gale and Katniss together, will they reconcile for the sake of their mental well-beings?
1. Prologue

Gale Hawthorne was, rather pointedly, ignoring his office phone as it rang off the hook. From glancing at the caller ID, he knew that it was his receptionist. After the events of the prior afternoon, Gale had demanded that the young man refuse to send anyone directly to his office without an over-the-phone consultation. Of course, Gale didn't intend on answering said calls. He was simply avoiding his superiors until everything blew over. The new government was exceedingly better than the old one; yet, they seemed to take matters out of proportion.

If Gale felt safe, who were they to intrude on his peace?

The constant buzzing noise was annoying. Nevertheless, Gale was proud of his weakling of a receptionist for not giving in to the demands of anyone save Gale himself. Loyalty was a trait that Gale had learned to treasure over physical strength. As silly as it may sound, now that the receptionist, Phillip, had affirmed that he had Gale's back in this ridiculous venture, Gale felt a surge of comfort—in spite of the calls and the newly added vibration of his cell phone against his thigh.

There was a loud banging noise on the door, which Gale had somehow forgotten to lock, and he leaned forward, his elbows sliding against the manila folders adorning his mahogany desk as he rested his forehead in his palms. _So much for loyalty, Phil_.

"Come in," Gale murmured, once he mustered the willpower. He wasn't prepared for whatever was to come next. Yet, Gale was also certain that he would seldom ever be ready, so there was no use prolonging it.

In the blink of an eye at best, President Paylor barged into his office, her hands curled into fists at her sides. Per usual, she was dressed to par, her pants suit outlining her curvaceous figure in a lovely manner. Gale had half a mind to comment on it when she interrupted his train of thought with a snide remark about how people that kept their doors locked didn't deserve doors—or offices, for that matter. Although it was a loose threat that came up often with Gale, he found it in him to scowl, remembering precisely why she was present. Well, why he presumed she was, at least.

"Do you have any business here besides reprimanding the likes of me?" Gale asked, bluntly.

The woman scoffed, but she was no longer taken aback by how rude her military commander could be. "When were you planning to inform the Capitol of the poisoned goods you received yesterday?"

"Word sure gets around fast, don't it?" Gale's attempt at humor warranted him the sight of Paylor's narrowed eyes. _Here we go_. "That was a personal problem, Madam President."

At that, she slammed her fist down on his desk, causing some of the files to slide off the edges. Gale didn't dare to pick them up, for he met her steely, brown gaze. "We take these matters seriously, Mr. Hawthorne. What would've happened if you'd consumed the food and died?"

Coolly, he replied, "You'd be forced to find another military commander half as good-looking as I am in a nick of time."

Paylor straightened up, placing her hands on her hips. Before she had a chance to rant on, as all women had a tendency to do, he'd learned, Gale continued. "It's been fifteen years since the Rebellion. These idiots have had fifteen years to kill me. I'm still here. They pulled a stupid stunt, that's all. Now that I think about it, it was probably just a prank from a bunch of ignorant Snow enthusiasts."

"They're not all Snow enthusiasts. When you took the initiative to set off those bombs—."

"It wasn't all me—." His voice was rising at a steady rate, and he stood to face her properly.

"You killed innocent children and people in general, from all parts of the country. People are still angry with you. They're angry with us. To have you sitting here, in such a high office, was a bad decision."

Realization dawned on Gale's countenance. "Is this you firing me, Paylor?"

Quickly, the woman shook her head. "This is me telling you to hide out for a while, preferably in another district. You're not allowed to visit your office or headquarters until I feel that the coast is clear. Necessary files and documents will be sent to you through the post, so that you may work during this indefinite period of time." The president spun on her heel and trotted away from him, maintaining her posture even when he rushed after her, glowering at the back of her head.

"You're kidding me, right?"

"Do I sound like I'm joking?"

"You have a stick up your ass at all times, so I wouldn't be able to tell if you were." Gale bit his tongue, pausing at his receptionist's desk. Perhaps he'd gone a bit too far, considering that he yearned to have his job back at normalcy as soon as humanly possible.

Paylor shot a glare at him over her shoulder. "I'm not." And with that, she was gone.

Gale's chest was still heaving for a couple of minutes after she left. He was having trouble taking it all in. District 2's government HQ had become his second home, for lack of a better title. Admittedly, Gale spent more time devising military plans in his office than he did at his condo, which was a measly block away from his job. That left him to wonder what he'd do without the place for weeks and, possibly, months. Perhaps it wouldn't be too massive of a break in his routine, since Paylor was intending on wiring files for Gale to look over in his absence. So, it was the work without the workplace, and Gale felt equipped enough to deal with such a fate, as long as it wasn't forever.

Until he realized that Paylor had requested that he left the district entirely, and her requests were to be taken as commands. Where was he going to go?

Irritated beyond belief, Gale turned to the one person who he could lash out on without fear of the consequences.

"_Seriously_, Phil?"

* * *

**A/N: You can track this story/contact me on Tumblr at 'ianlevitt'!**

**I don't even know if anyone's going to be interested in this story, but I have it planned out entirely, just in case you guys are. Let me tell you right now: this isn't going to be fluff-filled to the max. There's going to be angst—a lot of it.**


	2. Chapter 1

The sound of tiny, shuffling feet trailed Gale down the corridor, to his hotel floor, and into the hotel room that was adjoined to his.

"Chris, are you—? Ooh."

The young boy was sprawled out on the couch, as opposed to one of the twin beds that the room came with. He was as still as death; the lone aspect that hinted toward his well-being was his loud snoring.

Gale's assistant leaned over, presumably to lift Chris into her arms and place him in the bed. After all, she didn't particularly endorse children resting in what she believed were uncomfortable places. "Leave him," Gale whispered, peering over her shoulder.

There was a tug on his hand, and he smiled down at the small, dark-skinned girl that had taken ahold of it. "We'll have to go without Chris, then," Gale surmised.

As expected, the girl beamed brightly; she and her brother rarely ever got along, and when they did, she was quick to remark how slow or how hyper he was, depending on her mood. Moreover, she didn't spend one-on-one time with her father often, since his government job took him away from home for long periods of time. It'd gotten to the point where Gale's assistant had turned into a live-in nanny.

He peered up at the other adult, watching her for a moment to gauge her reaction, to both his 'undermining of her authority' and his declaration about leaving Chris. This, of course, meant that she'd be forced to remain confined in the four walls of the lavish hotel room while Gale and his daughter reminisced and pranced around District 12, respectively. She didn't glare, like he'd expected. Instead, the woman moved over to him and bent down to peck the girl on the forehead.

"Behave, yes?"

The girl nodded, her ever-so-bright smile unwavering. Then, Gale's assistant turned to the man himself. Her countenance was still void of emotion. "Don't stay out too late. I'd prefer if you came back within the next couple of hours, actually. It's not fair to Chris that he doesn't get to explore with his father."

Gale opened his mouth to protest, but the woman quirked her eyebrow and all counterarguments died on his lips. Chris honestly hadn't been interested in visiting District 12. He missed home, and he complained about leaving his friends in District 2 for the duration of the hovercraft ride. Gale was certain that Chris wasn't going to feel the least bit dejected when he found out about the outing. Still, it might have calmed him.

With a shrug, Gale murmured, "We'll see. If you get a chance, call Paylor—talk some sense into her, will you?" He was at the door now, handing his daughter her coat. Then, the brown-haired man slipped on his own.

"I'll try," Gale's assistant conceded, leaning against the doorframe

"Thanks, Devon."

* * *

District 12 was, suffice it to say, a new and improved land. Gale barely recognized anyone or anything, and he wasn't entirely certain as to whether that was a good or bad thing. The fact that he didn't possess a familiarity with the area anymore cut Gale's tour for his daughter short. They'd gazed at the refurbished woods from a distance, visited the abandoned building that had once been a schoolhouse for young children, and gazed wistfully upon the spot that had once been his childhood residence, then rubble, and, now, a fancy supermarket. Gale didn't feel as if he belonged. It wasn't a feeling of superiority or anything, seeing as social mobility was now viable in each district; it was more so the sensation of being thrust into a foreign world that had once bore some attachment to him. Should District 12 be considered his first house, it was no longer his home, and he accepted that smugly.

Gale and his daughter wound up touring the streets aimlessly, entering a few shops and, unbeknownst to them, taking well over the time that Devon had allotted them to be away. It wasn't as if he actually listened to Devon, anyhow—she was _his_ assistant. Nonetheless, women could be bossy and intimidating.

When he finally caught wind of the gradually darkening sky outside, Gale winced at the thought of the tongue-lashing that he was going to get when they returned to the hotel. Devon had work to do, and Chris wasn't the calmest kid on the block. Gale wouldn't blame her if she hadn't called Paylor for him, at this point.

"C'mon, my love." Gale took his daughter's brown hand in his and led her out of the mundane toy store they'd found themselves in. "Let's go and grab dinner." Despite his lack of knowledge regarding their location—in conjunction with the fact that they'd only passed grocery stores and sweets stands thus far—Gale had an inkling that District 12 had eateries.

No restaurant came into view for another mile or so. It was then that Gale recognized the name on a neon sign blinking above a sizeable building. It read '**Greasy Sae's**'. The ghost of a smile painted Gale's lips, and he entered the restaurant to find its namesake chatting with a couple at a nearby table. He waited patiently by the front counter, politely declining to order with the cashier. It felt like a century had passed when Sae finally made her way back to the front of the restaurant. Upon studying his face as she neared him, Sae paused in her tracks. Her eyes widened as if she had seen a ghost.

Gale's daughter tightened her grip on his hand, and he pulled her slightly closer to calm her racing heart.

Sae was the first to break the silence. "Why, if it isn't my government boy!" She hobbled toward Gale and threw her arms around him. He returned the hug one-handedly, partially because he wasn't keen on physical contact with anyone besides his children, and because his daughter was still clutching his other hand in a death grip.

Gale was grinning when Sae pulled back. She scrutinized him for a brief moment and then, predictably, she began to fuss over him. "Your figure! You've got muscles, but there's no meat on those bones, is there? I can hear them a-creakin' right now." Gale believed it was sheer luck that she caught his daughter's eye at that moment, for she put a halt on her scolding to kneel down and face the girl; the latter's gaze was encompassed by fright and wonderment. "Who might you be?" Sae queried, holding onto the girl's shoulders. The girl stiffened and looked up at Gale, who nodded his approval.

"I'm Rose," the girl replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Gale gulped involuntarily. He felt Sae's eyes on him, and once he mustered the courage to look at her, he found no accusation in them. In lieu, he detected understanding and discernment. He clearly hadn't gotten over his actions during the war, and this was a manner in which he coped, besides drowning himself in work. Whenever Gale's guilt enveloped him and threatened to steal the air from his lungs, he tiptoed into his daughter's room and was relieved that there was a Rose who was still there to comfort him, to forgive him, to relinquish his pain temporarily.

Sae introduced herself to Rose, and they had a brief discussion before Sae gifted her a chicken bone. Gale smirked inwardly, pondering what Devon would have to say about Rose's new toy, seeing as the girl was enthralled by it already.

Greasy Sae took the initiative of taking Gale's order. She asked him to step aside with her, so that a cashier could continue tending to the customers. Rose busied herself with the chicken bone, and Sae found the perfect opportunity to begin hurling questions at Gale. "Why didn't you tell anybody you were coming?" The woman presumed that, had someone caught wind of Gale's impromptu visit, they would've told her. Gale had half a mind to lie and eradicate that belief; yet, he saw no reason. "I was sent here. Trust me, it wasn't my choice." Quickly, he added, "I mean, I missed it here, but I wasn't planning on… I would've told you if this was planned." Gale nearly wiped the sweat beads off his brow when Sae accepted that save.

"Where are you staying?"

"Paylor set me up in a suite at Mockingjay Inn."

Gale and Sae were so immersed in their conversation that neither of them picked up on the unmistakable voice of the person ordering at the counter. That is, until she stopped staring at him and made her presence known.

"Gale? Is that you?"

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up abruptly. Gale froze on the spot. _This must be a dream_. But did he actually think that he could stay in District 12 without running into _her_ at least once? Gale was taking up temporary residence at a hotel named after her, for Pete's sake. This was inevitable. Still, he wished that it didn't have to be.

A surge of feelings overcame him as his suspicions were confirmed. It was Katniss Everdeen, or, better yet, his first love that had ended their relationship—both platonic and romantic—bitterly. Did he want a second chance? Did he want to patch things up? Did he want to apologize? No, no, he didn't want to talk to her. Katniss hadn't so much as sent him a letter in the past fifteen years, nor called him to say, "Fuck you". All of a sudden, Gale desperately needed to get his food and leave. But he couldn't bring himself to look ahead and ignore Katniss, especially since Sae excused herself to check on his food. That was likely a bullshit explanation for her absence. Gale simply didn't have the will or the resources to prove it.

"Hello, Katniss," Gale murmured, his countenance void of emotion. He couldn't help but study her. Katniss was visibly older, as he'd expected. What he hadn't counted on was her growing more beautiful than she had been the last time he'd seen her, bruises and all. Gale was bothered the most by her state. She appeared to be happy, and though his life wasn't something to be sad about, he couldn't so much as put on a façade to declare that this was what he'd always wanted: a life in which he failed miserably at sustaining romantic relationships, he had two illegitimate children, and he was forced to obey the commands of President Paylor in the setting where he felt most comfortable.

Gale's grip on the countertop tightened. She was, from what he'd heard, married with children. Gale had gone sour for the day of her son's birth, and numb for the day of her daughter's. The fact that she hadn't even bothered to have Peeta pick up the phone and call him pestered Gale beyond belief. Underlying this dejection was, evidently, the proven notion that Katniss didn't need Gale.

Gale needed Katniss.

Katniss had retired her long braid and allowed her hair to pool around her shoulders; its length went well past the halfway mark on her back. She brushed a loose strand behind her ear and cleared her throat. "I didn't know you were coming to 12. You could've told someone."

Was that entitlement he sensed? Gale had the urge to throw her marriage and the birth of her children in her face, in order to craft this idea that they were ex-friends that apparently kept important things from one another. Since he didn't favor a fight and it was getting late, Gale ignored her tone and said, brusquely, "Well, I didn't."

As if on cue, a waitress brought Gale's food out. "Thank you," he muttered, looping his arm through the bag. "Come on, sweetheart," Gale told Rose, tugging on her free hand. The girl followed him to the door, where they paused once more at the sound of Katniss's voice.

"Come for dinner at mine tonight." Katniss looked as if she regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth.

"Yours and Peeta's?" is what he would have followed up with, had he not been stupefied by the request. Or was it an order? Gale gave her a curt nod and dragged Rose out of the door, into the night.

* * *

**A/N: You can track this story/contact me on Tumblr at 'ianlevitt'!**** I'm thinking updates every Friday or Saturday.**

**Also, I'm aware of the fact that Gale and Katniss's first meeting wasn't very climactic. But I thought of it realistically. He wouldn't be warm towards her because she axed him out of her life, and she wouldn't throw her arms around him with affection because, let's face it, Prim's death isn't something that she's ever going to get over. I played the scene in my head and it was very realistic.**

**The title of this story is taken from a song. The specific lyrics that relate to this fic can be found on my Tumblr.**


	3. Chapter 2

_Thanks for the reviews guys! I love the fact that you're interested in this story. I planned to respond personally, but my messenger is messing up badly._

* * *

Devon's face was painted with rage when he and Rose arrived back at the suite. Christopher was awake, and he was ruining the couches and watching television between the rooms. Gale expected to be shouted at when Katniss's invitation was the first thing he mentioned. However, Devon's face lit up and, it seemed, all of her vexation disappeared. She moved aside the files in her lap to help him get the children presentable, and, within twenty minutes, everyone was prepared to leave out of the door. Gale arched a brow when he noticed the container of food that Devon had stealthily set on the couch beside her.

The reality of the situation dawned on Gale. Devon had intended to send him out with the children, so that she could get some work done. And, as immature as it sounded, Gale didn't think it was fair, in spite of Devon's Christopher-filled day. So, he persuaded her to go the only way he knew how: by having Christopher and Rose beg her. This predictably led to Gale getting a hushed earful of Devon's fury while he drove the rental car, with her in the passenger seat. The children were uncharacteristically peaceful, as Rose pointed out landmarks she was familiar with to her half-brother.

Gale expertly recalled the location of Victor's Village, which he had purposely avoided on his tour with Rose earlier. As he neared Katniss's home, he wondered if he'd done the right thing by accepting her offer. It was, quite honestly, a spur of the moment response. Gale could have bailed out and sent a latent message regarding their association, hinting at the official end of their friendship. But he hadn't.

As he parked in the driveway, Gale spotted a couple arguing in front of the other mansion in Victor's Village. Upon closer inspection, he realized that it was Haymitch Abernathy and Effie Trinket. That was certainly a subject that Gale could bring up in case the tension grew too thick during dinner. This was what Gale's life had become: planning through a series of strategic steps and what-ifs. It was rare to catch him off guard.

Gale and his companions exited the vehicle, and he held the bag of food in his fist protectively. It was silly, this whole dinner thing, especially because they were going to be reheating food that they could've eaten fresh. Gale didn't understand why Katniss hadn't asked for his number to arrange for a dinner that, he surmised, Peeta would cook. Then again, there was no way she could've planned to invite Gale over, since she hadn't been warned of his arrival in District 12. This was going to be an awkward night, if they were lucky.

Devon rang the doorbell, permitting Rose to clutch onto her hand. Chris latched onto the other, but Gale knew that his son wasn't frightened of strangers or anything of the like; he was simply copying his sister.

The door gradually creaked open, and Gale averted his eyes for a moment. Who was he about to see behind that door? He anticipated Peeta's presence, but there was no way that he could've prepared himself to having confirmation that Peeta was still around. As far as Gale was concerned, they'd both committed unspeakable deeds. What made Peeta any better than him?

"Hello." The soft, yet dignified voice snatched Gale from his reverie. What he discovered should've sent him running for the heels. Instead, it comforted him. A blonde boy no older than twelve years of age was peering out at them, scrutinizing each of their faces. Once he'd gotten his fill, the corners of his mouth upturned and he settled on Gale. "You must be Gale."

Leave it to Katniss to not refer to him as Mr. Hawthorne—not that titles genuinely mattered to Gale. "I am." He gave a curt nod, visibly uneasy. Gale subconsciously checked for the keys to the car and spotted them dangling in Devon's back pocket.

"My name's Rye." With that, the child stepped aside to permit them entrance to the home. Gale was the last to enter, and he kicked the door close behind him. Rye did the honor of locking it; then, he led Devon and the kids into the living room. Gale was probably meant to follow, as well, but he was stuck at the winding staircase. There was a burgundy wall on his left, and there were portraits hanging on it in every which way. Some depicted infants; others displayed a boy and a girl behaving mischievously or posing; and the bulk portrayed a jubilant family of four, with a mother who definitely didn't need him anymore, two giddy kids, and _Peeta_.

_Deep breaths._

"I'm enamored by them, too."

Gale had the sudden urge to vomit all over the floors, and the carpet, and the _fucking wall_. His head whipped around and he came face-to-face with the man who'd paid him back for saving his life by stealing Gale's only love. "I bet." Gale's smile was forced, and he figured that Peeta could tell. He most likely hadn't agreed with Katniss' abrupt decision to invite Gale to his home. Gale felt…triumphant, for once.

Peeta closed the distance between them and took Gale's bag of food. "We should go and get dinner ready. Katniss is starving."

Gale couldn't help but think that she should be starving in a number of aspects, since she'd decided to be in a relationship with someone like Peeta in the first place.

* * *

Willow was just as pleasant as her older brother, and she looked exactly like her father, though she had hints of her mother's personality. She was, in a word, perfect. Gale had projected no less, and he was envious. It wasn't the kids that he wished he had—Rose and Christopher were his lifelines. It was Katniss herself. The sooner he came to terms with the fact that it was pure fantasy, the better.

Dinner went by cursorily, with everyone finishing at record pace except for Devon. Gale smiled to himself; she hadn't been raised in or been raised by someone born in District 12, so it was understandable. The children hit it off, and Rye asked if they could be excused without dessert. After exchanging glances, the four parents at the table relented.

A looming silence hung over them for far too long. Surprisingly, Katniss was the one to break it. "That's a first. Rye never leaves the table without dessert. He must really like Chris and…and Rose." Gale pondered whether she was pissed off about the meaning of the name. She undeniably understood his thinking.

"He hasn't left without dessert since I started bringing treats home from the bakery," Peeta piped up, with a chuckle that couldn't be described as anything other than 'fatherly'. "We made banana pudding, his favorite, and he doesn't seem to care. Are those children or angels you have, Gale?"

There was something disconcerting to the man in question about his arch nemesis speaking about his children so casually. Okay, so arch nemesis was a tad harsh. But Gale was still uncomfortable. He squirmed visibly in his seat, and Devon placed her palm on his knee to stop him. Gale chuckled softly, in the least faux fashion he knew how. "They're children. They just behave themselves in front of company. You should see them when we're at home." He turned to Devon, in order to break eye contact with Peeta, and she nodded in agreement.

"I'm still stuck at the part about you even being a father, Gale," Katniss muttered. She wasn't jealous or upset, as he'd like her to be. She seemed dejected for some other reason—_ah, I didn't tell her about the kids_. In all fairness, it was like the pot calling the kettle black. He'd vowed not to open that can of worms.

Gale shrugged and pursed his lips, a twinkle in his eyes. "Things happen."

"I suppose so. Are you involved with either of their mothers?" Initially, Gale thought it wholly presumptuous of Katniss to decree that he'd had illegitimate children with two different women. Nonetheless, it was plain fact, due to the skin colors of his kids.

"Not romantically, no." Gale said it too hastily for his own liking. He nodded to Devon, crossing his arms against his chest. "She's Rose's biological mother. She acts like a mother to both of them, really, and Chris doesn't know any better, so she's 'Mom' to both of my brats for now." Devon shook her head disapprovingly, though she snickered at his statement. Gale was positive that she was flattered.

Peeta laughed along, attempting to put everyone at ease. "You sure there's nothing going on, Gale? I mean, she's your assistant, and you're around each another 24/7. It's bound to—."

"Yes, you're made for one another," Katniss interjected, in a clipped tone. Her eyes turned to slits as they settled on Gale's brown orbs. "Just make sure to invite us to the wedding. I wouldn't want to learn about any other illegitimate children after the rest of the country." The way she put the words 'children' and 'illegitimate' together sounded rather disgusting, and it pulled Gale's attention to the subtle ring gleaming on her left hand. He furled his fist beneath the table, and he counted to ten.

It did no good.

Clearly seething, Gale stood from his seat and leaned over the table, meeting Katniss's stare. "_Don't you dare_ talk about my family that way. You have _no right_."

It was then that Peeta flung his arm in front of Katniss, as if he was protecting her. Gale knew that he could rip the other man from limb to limb, should anything serious happen. "Whoa, calm down, Gale." The warning in Peeta's voice nearly made Gale cackle. This wasn't a fight over a lost love anymore. Had it ever been a fight? After all, fights consisted of two people. Peeta had never had anything to fight over because Katniss had always been his, from the Reaping. No, this wasn't about Katniss. This war was waged over his offspring.

"Tell your _wife_" —and he said it as if it was the filthiest word ever invented—"to calm down. She doesn't send so much as a postcard to say, 'Hey, Gale, I'm fine', or to rub her pride and joy in my face, and she thinks she has a right to—_let go of me_, Devon—she thinks she has a right to demand information, of all things, from me?"

"You quit fighting for me. You ended this." Katniss' words were spoken through gritted teeth. All four adults were standing now. She glared at him over Peeta's broad shoulders. Suddenly, the past and the present were muddled together, and Gale wondered if she was even speaking English.

"You started this rift, and you know it!" Gale's fist slammed into the table, and four little gasps were heard behind him.

He twisted his head around and realized that the children were watching the commotion. The younger pair had their palms clasped over their ears. Gale gulped and focused on the couple across the table again.

"I think it's time for you to leave," Peeta grumbled, sliding his arm around the waist of a fuming Katniss Everdeen. Or was it Mellark now?

"Rosie, grab your brother. We're leaving." With one last pointed look at his ex-best friend, Gale stormed out of the Victors' home, his solemn crew in tow. Gale found relief in the notion that Devon's pity for him would soon morph into scorn once they reached the hotel.

He climbed into the car and restarted it a few times before the engines revved properly. Gale peered over at the other mansion, and he noted that the development he hadn't gotten to bring up during dinner was kissing on the front lawn. For good measure, Gale rode past them and rolled down the window to shout, "Get a room!"

Gale didn't hear their response, had there been any.

* * *

**A/N: Remember— You can track this story/contact me on Tumblr at**

'**ianlevitt'!**


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